


Not Alone

by daringlybelieving



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-21
Updated: 2011-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-27 16:52:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/297992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daringlybelieving/pseuds/daringlybelieving
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl doesn't like what he sees.<br/>Takes place after Secrets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Alone

            Daryl watched from the somewhat comfort of his tent as Shane pulled up and quickly turned of the engine of his shiny ‘new’ car. He paid little attention to the man as he climbed out of the vehicle, his gaze moving instead to the blonde that had been occupying the passenger seat. 

            He scrunched his eyebrows together as he observed the two of them talk to Dale and Carol. He wasn’t close enough to hear the exchange of words, but the smug expression that covered Shane’s face and Andrea’s relaxed posture told him all he needed to know. He frowned as Carol took Andrea gently by the arm and led her away, an irrational bite of jealousy clawing at his mind as Shane’s self-satisfied gaze followed her. He had no claim on her, and he knew it, but seeing that lustful smirk curling the edges of the other man’s lip had his fists clenching closed painfully hard at his sides. 

            He didn’t trust Shane. Hadn’t since he’d become a part of the group, and judging by the way Dale had stiffened, he wasn’t the only one who thought that Shane was unstable. His thoughts were cut off when the shadow of a small figure passed over the tent. He laid his head back against his pillow, closed his eyes and just listened to the gentle rustling as the person attempted to quietly enter. 

            “Daryl?” it was spoken hesitantly, as if she were just checking to see whether he was asleep or not. He grunted in response and cracked one eye open to see Andrea standing just inside the tent flaps, her hands in front of her holding what appeared to be tape and fresh bandages. 

            Seeing he was awake, she came further inside and lowered herself down on the floor beside him, placing the items she was holding without easy reach. She gave him a small smile and shifted on the uncomfortable ground, “Carol said you haven’t had your bandages changed today.” 

            He grunted again, “I don’t need a babysitter.” Hearing her snort he turned his head towards her to pin her with a glare. 

            “Yeah right. We don’t want you to end up with an infection like T-Dog,” Ignoring his sounds of protest she set about pulling and tugging at the sleeping bag that covered him, a small smile of victory on her face when she managed to drag it out of his reach. Throwing the cover out the way, she collected the fresh bandages and looked at him expectantly, “Shirt.” 

            He glares at her but hauls himself up to a sitting position and drags his shirt over his head anyway. She was too damn stubborn for him to even bother arguing with. Dropping his shirt to the floor, he laid back and shifted until his side was easily accessible for her. 

            They were both silent as Andrea concentrated on gently cleaning his wound, the only sounds an occasional hiss of pain escaping Daryl’s lips when she touched a particularly tender area. Daryl watched as she scrunched her face in intense concentration as she taped the edges of the clean bandage over his wound. 

            “What’re you doin’, Andrea?” he asked her slowly in his husky southern drawl. She paused her work, a piece of tape suspended in mid-air between her fingers, and looked at him, her face a mask of confusion. 

            “What do you mean?” her brow furrowed lightly and she tilted her head to the side. 

            Daryl sighed and scratched at the stubble on his chin, “With Shane.” 

            Andrea bit her lower lip and dropped her gaze from his eyes, a light flush colouring her cheeks, “I don’t think that’s any of your business,” She replied in a clipped tone as she stuck the tape over the edge of the bandage and smoothed it down, securing it to his torso. 

            “Yeah well, I don’ trust him,” he rolled over so she could start work on cleaning the crossbow bolt entry wound on his back. He noticed she was less gentle this time, the softness that she had treated him with before this time replaced by a cold clinical air. 

            “My God, you’re beginning to sound just like Dale.” She felt a brief moment of guilt as she felt him flinch beneath her hands when she pressed a little too roughly. 

            “Yeah well, somebody’s gotta look after you, right?” He replied nonchalantly, moving his arms so he could pillow his head against them as she put a new bandage on his back. 

            Andrea bristled at his words and quickly finished securing the second bandage before picking up his shirt and throwing it at his face, “I can take care of myself.” 

            Daryl frowned and sat up straight so he could put his shirt back on before pulling the sleeping bag back over himself, “Bullshit, we all need to look out for each other now,” he paused at glanced at the her, only able to see the side of her face as she stared at the world outside the tent, “Shane’s only lookin’ out for himself, he ain’t to be trusted.” He arched an eyebrow at her to punctuate his words when she glanced at him. 

           She smiled lightly, dipping her head and lowering her eyes in acceptance, acceptance that someone would always have her back.

 


End file.
